Speech… Speech!

Lots of good folk orbiting the blogosphere might read my blabber and think: “He’s living the life!” It’s a romanticized image of “that guy who went to live in Europe,” as illustrated by BitchPhD last night (doesn’t that sound dirty?):

bitchphd: shit, you’re 25 and in Amsterdam. There’s no real excuse for not getting laid regularly.

And then there’s Brian @ TheStateImIn, who is so close to packing up and moving to Ireland, referring to me:

Who wouldn’t want to be able to live a life of riding your bike everywhere, spending Euros, and enjoying fabulous European culture? (And fabulous European women as well.)

I also get the occasional email from a reader asking about my-so-called charmed life in Amsterdamage. How did I get this image? Have I not outlined by part-time professional status? My poverty? And how the hell did so many read between the lines and decide I’m a connoisseur of European women? Maybe I shouldn’t spoil the image, I suppose I represent something to certain people. They look to me and the Communiqué as an example of what one can do to escape the horrors of the mundane. Plus, I did wake up at 10:30am today, and I won’t go to work because I don’t have to today, and I’ll spend the afternoon shopping for Teenwolf-costume material at second hand shops and stroopwaffle scented Dutch street markets. So never mind, that whole charmed life thing is pretty accurate, thanks guys.

Next week, on that faithful day – Nov 3rd, or -Judgement Day- as me and Arnold like to call it, I’ve been slated to be a speaker at the U of Amsterdam’s “Election Morning Brunch.” Me and other staff have arranged for C-SpaM to be shown on the bigscreen as the results roll in, and the riots begin. A student-friend of mine from Cali stopped me yesterday and said “Bicyclemark, I so want to buy a ticket, fly home and riot with all my friends.” – “That’s the spirit!” I told her, “Go break some shit in the name of democracy!” But alas, she won’t, we’ll have to enjoy that special episode of the surreal world from our cozy brunch catered by Toronto’s finest Chef-in-exile, no one cooks like him. I’m appearing as a “Political Blogger”(hahah) and I’m speaking about the insane amount of voter fraud in this election. (seriously how many states is it — even Saddam couldn’t have organized this much chaos.)

Speaking of kickass speeches, Bunny MacIntosh’s man – Jon Stewart did it again. The man is a slacker-folk hero. (at least mine) Speaking at the William & Mary graduation ceremony, he said some crazy shit, and received an honorary doctorate. My favorite part is where he talks about getting a Doctorate for doing nothing:

I?m sure my fellow doctoral graduates?who have spent so long toiling in academia, sinking into debt, sacrificing God knows how many years of what, in truth, is a piece of parchment that in truth has been so devalued by our instant gratification culture as to have been rendered meaningless?will join in congratulating me. Thank you.

By all means, cut and paste your favorite part of that speech into my comments, there are so many.

Now, before I get bitched at any further – Swordfish ala BM:

Ingredients:

-500 grams of Fresh Swordfish from the excessively upbeat fishmarket guy with the paper hat.

-1 Tomato, pronounced however you like.

-5 to 6 potatoes regardless of if you can spell the word.

-1 Onion to be cried over and when a roommate asks what’s bothering you blame the onion and supress your sexual disfunction problems.(i kid i kid)

-Fresh Coriander bought from the Dutchman with the excessively dirty hands.

-1 Lemon that you pick up with your own hands before he can do it for you.

Lots of Olive Oil from the Alentejo which is over-priced at a Portuguese Import shop that is quite un-Portuguese with its unfriendly staff.

-Slice up the onions, tomatoes and lemon and lay them out in the tray, like Jon Stewart did to those crossfire hacks.

Then add the coriander, potatoes, and whatever spices you want – put it in the oven, I really don’t care what temperature. Leave it in they’re for quite a while, and carry on conversation with your attractive dinner guest who you hopefully have impressed with your newfound cooking skills.

-But don’t be distracted, keep an eye on the roasting fish and at a bit of water to prevent it from getting as dry as Kerry’s sense of humor.

-When it smells ready, and looks ready, it’s ready! Now go eat and maybe you’ll get laid like you’re a 25 year old blogger, working at a University, and living in Amsterdam.